Excerpt from "This Far Gethsemane" by G. Scott Huggins

Shoshanna stiffened at the voice behind her. Though she’d heard it as often as Caansu’s, Aiierra’s voice always sounded harsher, more Human.

“It looks like dusk to me.” Caansu’s warm hum emanated from the outer tympanum on her throat, as if she were still singing.

Aiierra’s derisive bark made Shoshanna turn. Except for the fact that Aiierra was a bit smaller, and that the saffron traceries on her chest were only as wide across as a small dinner plate, the two Shrii were identical.

When we made shore, Aiierra had only a greenish spot on her chest, almost invisible. And Caansu’s yellowing was only a tiny, barred spiral. But now . . .

New branches of yellow had formed since yesterday on both of them.

Aiierra met her gaze. “The sun rises, child,” she continued, looking at Caansu. “Even the alien sees it. Must she explain it to you?”

Shoshanna shuddered. She could indeed explain it. Had tried to explain that, and more, to Caansu. She felt sick. The traceries on the bodies of the Shrii spread as the sun rose in the ecliptic toward Midsummer.

The Time of Rii or Not At All. Matingdeath.

G. Scott Huggins grew up in the American Midwest and has lived there all his life, except for interludes in Germany and Russia. He is responsible for securing America’s future by teaching its past to high school students, many of whom learn things before going to college. He loves to read high fantasy, space opera, and parodies of the same. He wants to be a hybrid of G. K. Chesterton and Terry Pratchett when he counteracts the effects of having grown up. His stories have appeared on Podcastle and will appear in Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine later this year. You can read his ramblings and rants at his blog, the Logoccentric Orbit (scotthuggins.wordpress.com), and you can follow him on Facebook (facebook.com/gscotthuggins).

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